ATASHA’S POV


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    5 vouchers


    We were only halfway through the ride. Another two or three hours stood between us and the northernmost outpost when Cassian’s eyes suddenly snapped open.


    This time, something was wrong.


    “Mendez, hold him down,” I ordered quickly.


    The moment his eyes opened, Cassian lunged at Mendez with sudden strength. The carriage rocked from the impact. I grabbed his arm and pushed my ability into him, trying to force his body to calm, to shut down the surge. But instead of weakening, he seemed to grow stronger under my touch.


    Mendez struggled to restrain him, his arms locked around Cassian’s shoulders. “My Lady—” he choked, his breath cut off as Cassian shoved against him, “ugh… I can’t—”


    “Mendez -” I didn’t finish. Cassian’s hand shot up and closed around Mendez’s throat. The carriage lurched as Mendez mmed back onto the bench, boots scraping for leverage. Cassian’s other hand locked on Mendez’s forearm and squeezed. The sudden movement


    made the wood creaked.


    “Cassian!” I grabbed his wrist with both hands and tried to pry him off. His skin was hot. The tendons under my fingers felt like cables. He didn’t look at me. Instead, he bared his teeth and tightened his grip. Mendez gagged, knees knocking against the trunk under the seat.


    “Let go!” I shouted, bracing one foot against the bench and pulling as hard as I could. Cassian’s arm didn’t budge. Then, without even ncing my way, he swung and backhanded me. The blownded on my shoulder and threw me sideways into the wall. My spine mmed against a support beam, sending a sharp jolt of pain up my back.


    I grit my teeth, anger cutting through the ache. Pushing off the wall, I lunged back at him and drove my fist into his ribs. It was a clumsy punch, and the impact burned my knuckles more than it hurt him. He didn’t flinch. The only reaction I got was him turning his head toward <ol><li>me. </li></ol>


    He looked at me.


    His eyes burned an unnatural red like blood spilling fresh. Then slowly, his mouth pulled into a crooked grin, showing teeth that promised nothing good. Then came the sound, a growl, deep in his chest, rough enough that the boards under our boots seemed to carry the


    vibration.


    “My Lord-” Mendez rasped, his voice strained as he tried to twist out of Cassian’s grip. He


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    managed to grab Cassian’s wrist, but it was useless. Cassian let go only because he decided to, not because Mendez forced him.


    He straightened to his full height, his shoulders nearly scraping the roof of the carriage. When he stepped toward me, the space shrank instantly. I backed up until the panel pressed against my legs. There was nowhere else to move.


    Mendez made another attempt, lunging from the side to grab Cassian around the waist. Cassian


    swung his arm back and caught him with a hard elbow. The hit knocked Mendez into the opposite bench, the impact strong enough to rattle the carriage frame.


    Then he came for me.


    I braced for teeth at my throat, but that wasn’t his aim. His arms locked around my waist, crushing the air from my lungs, and he drove forward with his full weight. The walls of the carriage didn’t stop him. Wood split apart with a sharp crack, the panel exploding into shards and splinters as he forced us through into the night.


    The cold hit hard across my face, wind tearing at my hood. The carriage was still moving. Hended on the runner, crouched low to keep bnce, thenunched us forward again in one powerful jump. His boot struck the lead horse’s nk, the animal rearing in panic before he shoved us both into the saddle. One arm mped tight across my ribs, holding me in ce, while his other hand tore the reins from the driver’s grasp.


    The horse screamed, foam at its mouth, and bolted into a dead run. The carriage behind rocked violently, voices shouting after us.


    “Your Highness!” Soldiers‘ cries cut through the chaos. Hooves scrambled on frozen ground, and steel shed as men tried to react.


    “Do not follow!” I shouted over my shoulder, my voice raw against the wind. “Hold the line! Do not follow us!”


    Dragging riders into this would be stupid. Out here, under the red moon, one wrong turn in the snow meant death before an enemy’s de ever found them.


    Cassian dug his heels into the horse’s sides, driving it into a harder run. Each stride jolted through my spine. Wind cut across my face until my skin stung, and the snow whipped into my eyes, blinding me in bursts. His arm never loosened around my ribs, pinning me against him. I kept waiting for him to shove me off, but he didn’t.


    We tore through the dark pines, past broken fence posts buried in drifts, the sky pressing low and heavy above us. Time blurred into the pounding of hooves and the ragged sound of the horse forcing its way through the snow.


    Then, without warning, Cassian jerked the reins. The horse skidded in the powder, hooves


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    scraping for grip, before mming into a tight turn. Its chest heaved, blowing clouds of steam, before it finally slowed and came to a halt.


    He had driven us into a shallow cut between two boulders half–buried under snow. The rock walls sheltered us from the wind, the space narrow, shadowed. No torches burned here. No voices chased us. Just the sound of leather straps groaning and our breaths fogging in the air.


    I forced myself to look up.


    He was already watching me.


    The red in his eyes seemed to fill the space between us more than the cold air did. His grin was still fixed, stretched wrong on his face, wrong on any face. Each breath he took came out slowly as if he had all the time in the world to decide what to do next.


    I froze, lungs locked.


    He grabbed a fistful of my cloak and hauled me up as if I weighed nothing, then hurled me away from the saddle.


    I hit the ground shoulder–first, snow exploding around me. The cold tore through my clothes as it packed into my cor and burned against my skin. I slid across the drift before I managed to roll and nt a knee down. My hand was already on my belt. Steel shed as I yanked the dagger free and raised it.


    I knew I didn’t stand a chance against his strength. He was bigger, faster, and I was already sore from the fall. But none of that mattered. I wasn’t about to curl up in the snow and wait for him to finish me. I might be weaker than him, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to die without putting up a fight. My grip tightened on the dagger, and I set my feet, ready to strike the moment he came for me.


    But Cassian hadn’t moved to follow. He sat twisted in the saddle, his body angled toward me. The horse stamped and tossed its head, agitated by the struggle, but he held the reins with one hand as if it took no effort at all. His other hand hung at his side, fingers flexing slightly, like he was weighing whether to grab me, strike me, or let me make the first move.


    His head tilted just enough to make it clear he was studying me. To me, he looked exactly like a predator, patient, waiting for the trapped thing in front of him to break. Then suddenly… he smiled.